


grumpy dandelion

by slightlytookish



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlytookish/pseuds/slightlytookish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sorry, doctor's orders," Grantaire says, tucking the blanket more securely around Enjolras. "Didn't you see the prescription? Antibiotics with a side order of soup, tea, and lots of fussing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	grumpy dandelion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/gifts).



> For glim, who requested Enjolras/Grantaire cuddly h/c or nose-rubbing. I tried to write a little bit of both ♥

"There's really no need to fuss," Enjolras says. "I'm feeling a lot better." It's true that his forehead is cool to the touch now and his eyes have lost that glassy, feverish look, but Enjolras is still pale and coughing too often and too deeply for Grantaire's peace of mind. 

"Sorry, doctor's orders," Grantaire says, tucking the blanket more securely around Enjolras. The fact that Enjolras snuggles closer when he does so, pillowing his head on Grantaire's shoulder with a loud sniffle, tells Grantaire just how much he needs that extra coddling even if Enjolras won't admit it to himself. "Didn't you see the prescription? Antibiotics with a side order of soup, tea, and lots of fussing."

"That sounds more like Joly's orders to me," Enjolras grumbles, but whatever else he means to say is swallowed up by a long and hacking cough. Grantaire rubs his back through it, and when it ends Enjolras sighs tiredly, which only sets him off again.

"Well, I suppose staying home for one more day won't hurt," he says when the coughing fit subsides at last. He sounds hoarse and disappointed, and Grantaire has to hide his grin in Enjolras' sleep-mussed curls. 

"It might even help if you try to rest for a little while today," is all that he says, remembering how Enjolras refused to take a nap the day before and ended up falling asleep hunched over his laptop. 

"But my essay-"

"Is practically finished and not due for another week. You'll have plenty of time to put the finishing touches on it when you're well again." 

Enjolras huffs irritably into the crook of Grantaire's neck, and when Grantaire pulls back to look at him he's met with Enjolras' best affronted glare. Unfortunately for him it doesn't have the usual effect, not when it's combined with sniffles and a bright red nose and Enjolras' messy hair. 

"You're adorable when you're sick," Grantaire can't help saying. "Like an extremely grumpy dandelion."

"I thought you were supposed to be nicer to people when they're not feeling well," Enjolras says, trying to glare at him even harder, and Grantaire tries to keep from laughing by ducking down and brushing Enjolras' nose with his own.

"Stop that," Enjolras says, turning his face into the pillow. "You'll get sick too, if you keep that up."

"If I'm not sick yet then I won't get sick at all," Grantaire says, because Enjolras has been ill for days and there isn't a single spot in their apartment that hasn't been exposed to his germs by now. "I have the healthy constitution of an ox."

"More like the stubbornness of a mule," Enjolras says, but he's smiling, and when Grantaire leans in again – this time to kiss him – Enjolras kisses him back. 

"Tea?" Grantaire offers when he pulls away. 

"With honey?" Enjolras says, sounding hopeful, because apparently he has a tremendous sweet tooth that only reveals itself when he's sick. It's something Grantaire hadn't known about him, before, just like he'd never known what Enjolras is like in the mornings (quiet and caffeine-deprived and sleepily reading his emails on his tablet), or his inexplicable need to wear a watch, even at home ("But you can just check the time on your phone." "It's not the _same_ , Grantaire."), or the way he always leaves half-empty mugs of tea or coffee all around the apartment whenever he becomes too engrossed in his work to remember to drink them. 

It makes something flutter in Grantaire's chest when he thinks about it, all those little bits and pieces of his private self that Enjolras has entrusted with him, and Grantaire can't help curling just a bit closer to him for a long moment.

"Yes, with honey," he says, prying himself away at last, though not before he hides another smile in Enjolras' wayward hair. "You're lucky that I like you a bit."

"I know," Enjolras says, cuddling close enough that Grantaire is sure he won't be making that tea any time soon. "Good thing, because I like you a bit, too."


End file.
